Angie was saying to me with the woods in her eye

“I want to go back to the cave

And look at the icicles without having to smell your cologne.”

So along with the browns of the night

I gave her all my hair,

Some ice cube trays, and the moon was coming towards us

On its belly like a snake

Or like my old best friend David Fausel in a drunken rampage.

When your mother gets mad cos you spilled wine on her mattress

You’ll find out why my streets are only so wide

Until night time makes them cold.

Here come ten trees or here come ten dresses

Into your life and into your jeans.

As for me, I just want to climb up onto your face.